


Out of Thy Star

by JetnessAffliction



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: F/M, drowning in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 13:11:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3411854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JetnessAffliction/pseuds/JetnessAffliction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOILERS FOR EP19 and possible predictions for episodes beyond that.</p><p>"Tragedies do happen."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Thy Star

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There is no mistaking that light in Eddelrittuo’s eyes, a flash of something joyous and lifting that the young girl’s innocence only amplifies. Though she speaks in worrisome tones and careful expressions of weariness, there is nothing that can hide the cheerfulness glinting just behind those lies, and Lemrina knows there can only be one reason for it.

 

“Eddelrittuo.” Lemrina feels the numbness wash over her as her lips curve upwards and she offers the small, fretful girl on her screen a practiced smile. “Thank you, Eddelrituo, for the brief time that you have been a friend to me. Today, as well.”

 

Eddelrittuo’s brows knit tighter and her expression skews in confusion. “Princess Lemrina? I- It is, I mean, of course..!” Lemrina continues to smile patiently as the girl stumbles for words. “Of course if Princess Asseylum’s condition does improve, I will inform you immediately…!”

 

“I know, Eddelrittuo.” Her smile morphs fractionally, almost genuine as she holds back something close to laughter. “Of course you will tell me.”

 

There is a pause of silence between them as Lemrina considers the mark she may leave on this child’s heart. She knows that in her short life of 20 months, she has had few chances to etch her existence into this broken Moon and the people who occupy it. For Eddelrittuo, who has only ever done all that was asked of her, she wants to be genuine.

 

“I wish you happiness and good fortune. An innocent child such as you… May your prayers always be answered.”

 

Lemrina ends the call and waits.

 

It doesn’t come to her in a rush of sadness or embarrassment or even anger.

 

As the electric lights drone on overhead and the silence of the small office settles in again, it comes back to her in fragments. Elsewhere in the universe, dust gathers bit by bit and forms gravel, then stone, then boulders, and eventually even asteroids or even moons. So too, do her quiet breaths. Each steady inhale folds stale air into her lungs, layering and fusing, until her chest grows heavy. The more she breathes, the more unbearable it becomes. Her lips press to a thin line and she holds her fingers over them to keep from crying out.

 

Slaine Troyard had done the same, not even a full day ago.

 

Now she understands why.

 

When Slaine had come to her room late last night, his uniform disheveled and face ashen, she had thought that her most terrible, selfish wishes had finally come true. When he grabbed her by the arms, his eyes so full of sadness while they carefully darted over her, she had thought he was searching for comfort, for the only thing she had left to give. When his warm fingers were against her cheek and trailed gently across her lips, she was already his. Lemrina had pulled him closer, suddenly engulfed by a shocking, frightening heat as he pressed against her. Then over her. His hands no longer shaking as they floated over her chest, then under her gown.

 

Lemrina had never known fear like that before.

 

She had never felt happiness like that before.

 

His body melting against hers, hip to hip and heartbeat to heartbeat. The frightful pleasure that shook through her when she cried out. And after, as he laid with her, the tears that mixed with hers.

 

His tears last night had not been for her sister.

 

Lemrina stares ahead, unseeing. “I’m a fool, after all…” She admits aloud to herself, and the silence that answers back is too familiar. She now understands that his troubled looks and distracted replies these past few days were not because of his steadfast love to Asseylum. Last night had been the one time he had shed tears for her sake, and she had mistaken them, completely.

 

She could have died then, in his sad embrace. But there is no need for regret. There will be another time, and she knows with a terrible certainty that the next time, she will.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“My deepest apologies, Milord Slaine. I should have paid more attention to Princess Lemrina’s communications… She..” Harklight pauses, his mind racing for an alternate solution, no matter how unrealistic. “She spoke with Eddelrituo for only a few minutes, we can’t even be certain that she-”

 

“She knows.”

 

Harklight can hear it. These days he has been even more keenly aware of that dry edge in his master’s voice. Slaine Troyard is not cruel with his words these days. He is, instead, impossibly steady. It alarms Harklight like nothing else. “Sir, there is no one to blame but myself… If you wish it of me, I will remedy this at once. I have already locked down all other communications, as well as transports and kataphraktoi on the hangar decks. When we eventually find her, I will make sure that Princess Lemrina does not do anything rash or-”

 

“-No, Harklight. You are in no way at fault. This was inevitable.”

 

Slaine turns to him and Harklight watches precariously as his master raises a hand and clenches it slightly around the red fabric over his chest.

 

“I should be the one.”

 

Harklight can make out sharp, shadowed edges through the thick fabric. But even without the faint outline, he is aware of what it is. He was the one who had first suggested it, and his master has kept it close at hand even before Princess Asseylum had opened her eyes.

 

“I was already prepared.”

 

There is so much finality in his words that Harklight remembers what fear is.

 

 

* * *

 

It’s here, in a hidden away observation room over a launch deck that Slaine finds her. It wasn’t difficult. In addition to being one of the lowest gravity sections of the entire base, it’s a quiet, simple room with an uncluttered view of the debris belt and the beaming Earth beyond that. Standing with her back to that shining blue star, she watches as the door slides shut behind him, and he floats only a meter in.

 

“Please, Princess Lemrina. Do not force my hand.”

 

“Impossible....” she laughs quietly in disbelief, but can’t bring herself to smile, even in jest. “I have only once had power over you… and I let that go so easily, didn’t I…”

 

When he doesn’t answer, she turns abruptly, distractedly searching among the cold, broken pieces of the Moon. Some of the debris has been worn down through the years, so small and barren, knocked and chipped so many times during their own inconsequential orbits that they have become rounded and pocked. What little light from the sun reaches them they can no longer reflect. After a long moment of silence, she finds the right words.

 

“Will it hurt?”

 

“...No.” He replies and kicks off slightly, vectoring steadily toward her.

 

Lemrina watches his reflection intently as he floats closer. Her eyes drink in his translucent image as he reaches under his left collar and brings out a small, unadorned metal case. It’s only then that she realizes how much of a farce her willfulness and her influence really was, how meaningless her petty dreams had been.

 

“So cruel..” She murmurs, eyes fixed on the small case. She knows there is no glimmering ring inside it, but in the twisted illusion that was to be their life together, it is, in a way, a true token of their affections.

 

“It can’t be the war…” She turns to face him again, searching for any trace of that fading illusion. “No, it isn’t the war has made you so cruel.”

 

There is no answer that he can give.

 

“Fear, then?”

 

Only those piercing eyes, glossing over with such deep regret.

 

"... and love.”

 

His eyes widen at that, overflowing with guilt, and he flinches as if to look away.

 

“Don’t..!” She quickly snatches the case from his hand, opens it, discards it. “You’re no coward, Slaine Troyard. Don’t turn from me, now, of all times.” A single bright blue capsule floats between them for a moment, before she cups her fingers around it and both their gazes are locked on the color.

 

It is her last chance.

 

“I’m scared….” The words rise up, frail and frantic. “Help me, please, Slaine…!” There will be no miracles for her, but it is the last prayer that she dares to speak.

 

Slaine gently closes his fingers around hers and brings her hand to his lips. His touch is so gentle, so tender that it bewilders her. She no longer remembers sadness-- that numb feeling of emptiness, of stillness-- he has taken that away from her and replaced it with this, and this is all there will be. Lemrina’s eyelids flutter as the panic laps and ebbs through her body, cold waves rushing from her clenched teeth to her trembling wrists. Slaine’s eyes narrow slightly and his lips brush delicately over her knuckles, coaxing them loose until his lips can carefully press against her fingertips. Each kiss is so delicate and chaste against her skin, but even the lightest touch weighs on her heart, dragging down the stony fragments. Her eyes finally slip closed when she feels his tongue brush against her palm, before he lets go completely and wraps his arms around her. It was her last chance.

 

When he kisses her lips, her heart has already broken: fear surges through her now, so intense that she clutches at his shoulders and pulls him closer, desperate for relief. But she knows there is none that Slaine will offer, and with each forceful roll of his lips between hers, with that brief slide of his tongue against her own, she can feel it stab straight through her, the most unclouded, purest ecstasy she’ll ever know. After a moment, she kisses him back, as forceful as she can. As long as she can.

 

When he breaks away, she swallows. She swallows easily.

 

Her love. His fears. Their sins. She swallows them all.

 

“Princess Lemrina…”

 

His breath against her cheek is too tender, even now.

 

“I love you, Slaine.”

 

“I know.”

 

It engulfs her, completely. “I love you.”

 

“I know.”

 

Soon, it’s so terribly cold that she can’t feel the damp tears finally seeping from under her eyelids, glistening and shining with reflected light.

 

“I love you.”

 

He presses his lips to hers again and holds her tighter, anchoring her upright against him, heartbeat to fading heartbeat. He stays that way, still and silent, until he feels her hands float away.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

 

* * *

 

Harklight is startled when the door hatch finally slides open, and his master drifts through, silent and composed.

 

One glance is all he needs to confirm it, but when he sees her floating, still and perfect against the view of space beyond, he cannot tear his eyes away. What a fearsome man Slaine Troyard is, he thinks with absolute certainty as he watches tiny specks of light glint around her serene smile and scatter smaller still, when they break against the glass.

 

So cruel.

 

So beloved.

 

“To ashes, Harklight. Quickly… To ashes.”

 

“Of course, Sir.”

 

“She belongs to the Moon, now.”

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**Author's Note:**

> Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
> Doubt that the sun doth move;  
> Doubt truth to be a liar;  
> But never doubt I love--
> 
> ........................................
> 
> lets pretend that this is a few days after Asseylum has woken, that Harklight has already swapped spit with her, and that she has become completely irrelevant. There's really not much left to wrap up with her, is there.
> 
> I really believe that Slaine sees a part of his younger, innocent self in Lemrina, and that ***for these 3 especially*** fear and love are very much the same thing.


End file.
